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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096060">i'm not afraid of your bluest flame</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noruway/pseuds/Noruway'>Noruway</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Treasure [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band), K-pop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, First Meetings, Hangover, Language, Less serious than it sounds, Loneliness, Lowkey Crack, M/M, Misunderstandings, Roommates, San is lonely, Woosan are disaster gays, Wooyoung is lonely (but in a different way), Wooyoung is loud and pretty, Yeosang curses a lot, Yeosang is sarcastic, san calls woo "purple man", txt cameo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:48:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096060</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noruway/pseuds/Noruway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>San goes to Treasure to escape the stress of university and wallow in his miserable loneliness. One particular night, he witnesses a pretty purple-haired man being mistreated by his asshole boyfriend and decides to become his knight in shining armor.</p><p>Perhaps he should've waited to perform his heroic deed until he was more sober.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jung Wooyoung &amp; Kang Yeosang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Treasure [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. are you the one who will take me there?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi there~ before you read, I have to recommend listening to "All Night" by Walk the Moon (it's where the title came from and what I listened to while writing this uwu)</p><p>Ok, please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You gonna stare at that glass all night, or do you want me to pour you another drink?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>San snaps out of his daze and raises his head to meet Seonghwa’s questioning gaze. He blinks lazily before nodding his head towards the empty glass, any trace of alcohol long-since vanished. “Gimme another, Hwa.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite his concerned expression, the bartender nods and moves to pour San a fresh glass of some beer San can’t remember the brand of.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Penny for your thoughts?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Treasure</span>
  </em>
  <span> is uncharacteristically empty for a Friday night, not that San’s complaining, which is probably why Seonghwa’s attempting to make conversation. He doesn’t mind it too much. Even though San sees the bartender as more of an acquaintance than anything, he appreciates how the man makes an effort to familiarize himself with the regulars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s pretty sure Yunho’s managed to befriend him (that damn social butterfly), but San really couldn’t give less of a shit about getting to know some guy from a hole-in-the-wall club he happens to frequent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah. Jus’ need to wallow for a bit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loneliness is a bitch, and San knows that better than anyone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing is, most people would scoff at the idea of the great Choi San being </span>
  <em>
    <span>lonely</span>
  </em>
  <span>. In fact, most people who know him say he’s quite privileged to have so many friends, to have enough scholarships to carry him through graduate school and then some, to be accepted regardless of his sexual preference. By all accounts, San is one of the luckiest people in Seoul.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But San doesn’t have friends, at least, not as many as his peers believe. He knows a lot of people, and people definitely know of him, but he’s barely close enough to anyone to consider them </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The only two he reserves that title for don’t even attend his university. Besides, lately, Jognho’s been busy with a new surge of clients (everyone wants to spend their summer working out, apparently), and Yunho’s time has been all but stolen by his new boyfriend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>San might be slightly bitter about his single status, but he’d never want to interrupt Yunho’s newfound romance. Mingi’s nice, anyways. From the few conversations they’ve had, San thinks he could call Mingi a friend in the future.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So yeah, he has about two-and-a-half friends. Hardly </span>
  <em>
    <span>privileged.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On top of all that, he’s stuck studying something he has absolutely no interest in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to go to medical school; he doesn’t even like his major, but he can’t switch, now. It’s his last year, and if he changes from pre-med, not only will he have to attend three more years of college, but he’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>also</span>
  </em>
  <span> lose some of his conditional scholarships. And he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> can’t afford to lose any scholarships.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And as far as being accepted goes, well— university students </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> far less judgemental than the residents in his hometown, he’ll give them that. And having </span>
  <em>
    <span>Treasure</span>
  </em>
  <span> as a safe place for those in the queer community is just another bonus. If it wasn’t for this tiny club in one of the more rundown areas of Seoul, San never would’ve met Yunho or Jongho. The fact that he’s escaped the more violent forms of prejudice is nothing short of a miracle, to say the least. He should be grateful for his life, and sometimes, he is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then he returns to his dorm room, and his eyes land on the picture frame on his desk, one of his parents enveloping his younger self in a warm hug, blurry Christmas decorations glittering in the background. His mother’s belly had been swollen, carrying his little sister.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>San hasn’t seen his family since he left for university. He’d come out to them after all of his things were already packed in his truck, and he’ll never forget the absolute horror, despair, </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgust</span>
  </em>
  <span> that washed over his parents’ faces. His sister, twelve years old at the time, had already known and could only watch on with heartbroken eyes as their parents told her brother not to come back unless he was with a girl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Needless to say, he’s never gone back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sangie, buy me a drink~ </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sangie? I’ll love you forever and ever if you do~”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>San’s head swivels to where a high-pitched, melodic whine cuts through the low rumble of bass that reverberates through the club. A new pair of men have situated themselves a few seats down from him, one with lilac hair hanging playfully over a smaller brunette.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Great,</span>
  </em>
  <span> San thinks, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now I get to hear yet another couple be gross.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re fucking pathetic if you think I’m paying for your spoiled ass,” the brunette bites, and San feels the corners of his mouth turn down at the hurt look on the other’s face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But Sangie~” The angel’s sweet voice lilts in the air, followed by a squeaky giggle, and San is certain that if he’d been less tipsy, he’d find the nasal tone a little annoying. As it is, though, he can think of no more beautiful sound in the world. He watches as the purple-haired man drapes himself across his partner’s shoulders, only to be roughly shoved away, nearly losing his balance and toppling from the high barstool.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>San scowls and stands. How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> this man treat his boyfriend with such harshness? Why isn’t Seonghwa doing anything about this blatant domestic abuse? Why doesn’t the pretty purple man look bothered by his partner’s actions?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it’s the alcohol seeping into his system that gives him the courage to approach the duo, ignoring Seonghwa’s worried calls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” he shouts, though there’s not enough noise to justify his loud volume. The pair jump and face him in synch, and a bitter taste fills his mouth at how attuned the couple obviously are to each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Purple man smiles nervously, glancing between San to where he glares intensely at his boyfriend. “Can we help you…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>San shoves his finger in the brunette’s face, satisfied at how the small man flinches, an expression of discomfort crossing his features. “You!” he growls, voice lisping at the edges (a result of his buzzed state).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me?” the brunette drawls in a stupidly deep voice. San hates him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you!” San emphasizes his words by jabbing the man’s chest, while the pretty purple man just stares in shock, as if he’d never been defended before. “You can’t treat him that way! How dare you be violent towards your partner? What kind of boyfriend </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> you?!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stare at him in silence, both men equally confused at his declaration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boyfriend…?” Purple man’s eyes shift over to his partner, and they maintain eye contact for a while before the purple one bursts into a fit of hysterious giggles, the brunette rolling his eyes dramatically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s not the reaction San was expecting, and his frown only deepens at his concerns being dismissed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sensing his hostility, the purple man directs a soft smile at him, which San subconsciously returns. “I appreciate the concern, but we aren’t dating. Sangie’s just my best friend. Isn’t that right, Sangie-ah~?” He reaches over and squishes his p— his </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>cheeks, who makes a noise similar to a hiss and pries purple man’s hands from his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keep your grubby hands off me, you fucking leech,” the brunette (Sangie?) huffs. Now that San has context, he can see the fondness lurking behind the man’s cold expression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, now San feels like a real dumbass. “Er…” He can feel his face flushing in embarrassment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Purple man releases a squeal, placing a delicate hand over his heart and mock-swooning. “He’s so cute, Sangie! Oh my god, he’s perfect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He can also hear you,” Sangie deadpans, scrutinizing San with a calculating gaze before scoffing and punching his friend in the arm. “Of course, you’d attract the white knight in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> club in Seoul that isn’t fucking packed. What are the odds?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A knight! A handsome prince! This is exactly what I need,” the purple man sighs dreamily. San barely has time to brace himself before he has an armful of the gorgeous but heavy man. Said man nuzzles into his shoulder, and San catches a whiff of liquor and— </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the pretty man’s already drunk, it seems. “My week’s been pretty terrible, you know? You know, my prince~?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By this point, the pleasant buzz has worn off, and San is now free to panic about having a drunk angel in his arms. He glances at Sangie for help, only to find that the man has his phone out and is recording everything with an evil smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Princey~” purple man whines, pouting up at San, who worries that his heart may give out at the adorable sight. “You won’t leave me, right? Won’t leave me like Binnie…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then purple man is crying, wailing into San’s chest. His friend must finally decide he’s got enough blackmail material, because he puts his phone away and gulps down the rest of his drink— when had he ordered that?— before hopping off the stool. Sangie wrenches the purple man from San and supports him by wrapping an arm around his shoulders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s our cue to leave.” He nods cordially at San and starts heading for the exit, but San catches him by the elbow before they can leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Sangie glances back at him in mild amusement, purple man still sobbing and wiggling in his grip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>San fidgets, unused to any type of social interaction that goes beyond saying his name. “Can I— will you guys come back?” he squeaks, cringing at his own awkwardness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sangie smirks knowingly. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll be back tomorrow. Isn’t that right, Woo?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Binnie!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Woo cries, and Sangie sighs. With one last wave at San, the pair stumble out of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Treasure</span>
  </em>
  <span> and disappear into the night. A low whistle sounds from behind him, and San whips his head around to face Seonghwa.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who were they? What are their names?” he asks eagerly, but his excitement dies when Seonghwa just shrugs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re not regulars. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them around, actually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>San pouts, distraught at the thought of never seeing the pretty purple man ever again. Seonghwa chuckles from behind the bar and reaches over to affectionately ruffle San’s hair. “Don’t worry, kid. I’m sure your Cinderella will be back. Just come back tomorrow night, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Although San is disappointed he didn’t even so much as get purple man’s name, he does find a bit of comfort at the thought of seeing him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he’d be lucky. Maybe he won’t be so lonely anymore.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. are you the one who will treat me right?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Cute boys that are sweet and bold and gentlemanly, who wear adorable shirts and sweaters and are maybe a little awkward, but who are also hiding some serious muscles and could probably snap me in half.” Yeosang leans in, as if to whisper the next bit of information, but Yeonjun could definitely still hear him. “And this one had dimples.”</p><p>Well, shit.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wooyoung’s shriek draws the attention of the other patrons seated near them. Changbin winces, placing his iced Americano down on their table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Baby, listen-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell, Binnie? How long have you kept this from me?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Changbin sighs and fiddles with his fingers, a nervous habit that Wooyoung would usually calm by linking their hands together. Not today, though, for obvious reasons. “I’ve known for a few months… I just didn’t know how to tell you. I know we’ve talked about how neither of us want to do the long-distance thing, but this is such a great opportunity! I couldn’t just pass it up, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what? You’re gonna go off to Australia for god knows how long— what about </span>
  <em>
    <span>us?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wooyoung is in near hysterics at the thought of his boyfriend leaving. Sure, their connection has never been super deep, and their relationship consists mostly of meaningless conversations littered between nights of passion, but at least it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>something. </span>
  </em>
  <span>At least, Wooyoung doesn’t have to hunt for one-night-stands anymore. At least, he doesn’t wake up alone. At least, he can delude himself into believing someone loves him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Long-distance is out of the question; neither are emotionally invested enough to keep up with calls and texts, and neither have enough money to spend on long flights over breaks. And there’s no way in hell that Wooyoung will uproot his entire life to move to Australia, no matter how much he wants to be with Changbin (and, really, he doesn’t want it that much).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>about</span>
  </em>
  <span> us?” Changbin repeats, slowly, as though speaking with a child. Wooyoung is stubborn, though, prideful and possessive of the mock-completeness that comes from keeping Changbin in his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t just— just </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave</span>
  </em>
  <span> me,” Wooyoung chokes out, and he can’t help the embarrassment he feels when his eyes begin welling with tears. “You’re supposed to stay. You can’t just leave me </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The guilt reflected in Changbin’s eyes only makes him feel ten times more pitiful, and a few tears slip down Wooyoung’s swollen cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Wooyoungie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three days later, Wooyoung wakes up in Yeosang’s bed with a splitting headache, the smell of hangover soup drifting from somewhere else in the house. He groans loudly, immediately regretting the action after his head throbs in pain. Still, he forces himself up and across the room to his own bed, where he slumps and digs through his nightstand for some pain-killers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After popping three extra-strength aspirin (washed down with a lukewarm bottle of water, of course), Wooyoung sluggishly strips out of his clothes from the previous night and enters his and Yeosang’s bathroom, whining to no one when there’s no hot water and he’s forced to shower cold. Once he’s cleaned up as well as his hungover state will allow, he throws on a hoodie and a pair of sweats before trudging downstairs to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Yeosang’s amused voice travels through the archway to the kitchen, and Wooyoung grunts some kind of greeting as he flops onto a chair. He folds his arms over the table and rests his head, watching Yeosang putter around making what looks like an omelette.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong with him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tilting his head towards the new voice, Wooyoung scowls at Yeonjun’s smug, evil, conniving grin from where the latter sits cross-legged on the counter. Okay, so maybe that’s the headache talking— but he still stands by his opinion that Yeonjun is an evil little shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He and Yeosang have been living in this old two-bedroom house for about a year (ever since they decided one year of dorm life was enough for them), along with Yeonjun and his two roommates. Well, more like </span>
  <em>
    <span>four</span>
  </em>
  <span> roommates, since his boyfriend, Soobin, is constantly around and spending the night, and wherever he goes, his younger cousin tags along. The five of them always sleep in Yeonjun, Taehyun, and Beomgyu’s room, which is even weirder because the three of them only have one bed. Wooyoung has long since given up trying to decipher whatever kind of cultish bond that group has and just ignores their strange friendship rituals.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s just being dramatic,” Yeosang states, ignoring Wooyoung’s whine of protest. “Romeo over there got wasted last night to get over his break up. We got kicked out of a few bars, it was actually kinda sad, until—” he pauses, a flicker of hesitation crossing his gaze, “until some white knight saw us bickering and assumed we were dating? And that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the bad boyfriend? What kind of bullshit-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wooyoung shrieks, head shooting up from the table, and he winces as the remnants of his headache flare up with the action. “That was real?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeonjun bursts into laughter, meanwhile Yeosang just raises an eyebrow. “Yeah. Dude had heart eyes for Wooyoung the whole time. Oh, by the way, he said we should come back tonight and see him, so.” The brunette smirks at his friend’s distraught expression. “Hope you don’t have plans.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Groaning, Wooyoung flops back onto his arms and pouts in distress. “I can’t believe this. I thought that was some weird hallucination my brain invented to make up for my miserable existence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeosang sets two plates in front of him before sliding into the adjacent chair. “Why are you even complaining?” Wooyoung can practically hear his eye roll and lifts his head to scowl, before spotting his breakfast and thinking better of it. “A guy who’s exactly your type flirted with you yesterday and, apparently, is interested enough to want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>talk to you, for real. How is this a bad thing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>type,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wooyoung scoffs, to which Yeosang deadpans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cute boys that are sweet and bold and gentlemanly, who wear adorable shirts and sweaters and are maybe a little awkward, but who are also hiding some serious muscles and could probably snap me in half.” Yeosang leans in, as if to whisper the next bit of information, but Yeonjun could definitely still hear him. “And this one had </span>
  <em>
    <span>dimples.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeonjun nods sagely from his perch on the counter. “Dimples will be the death of us all. You’re so lucky you don’t have to worry about dating, Yeo.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeosang opens his mouth to retort, but Wooyoung beats him to it. “He’s demi, Jun, not ace,” he states pointedly. Sensing his friend’s discomfort, he changes the topic. “Don’t you have a class, today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, just waiting for Soobinnie to pick me up—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if on cue, the shrill doorbell rings, and Yeonjun jumps off the counter, waving a hasty goodbye as he darts from the kitchen. Wooyoung barely pays him any mind, instead focusing on Yeosang’s dampened mood. An unbidden wave of guilt hits him hard, knocking any lingering frustrations away and replacing them with remorse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Sangie.” Yeosang doesn’t ask what he’s apologizing for— the reason is always the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not your fault,” the latters mutters, and suddenly the tension is gone. They’ve learned not to let the atmosphere linger, to put the past in the past. Wooyoung knows Yeosang’s feelings haven’t changed, but neither have his own, and there’s nothing either of them can do to change that. So, they carry on as normal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After clearing their plates of food, Yeosang forces a whiny Wooyoung to wash the dishes. He purposefully clangs things together and causes a racket as revenge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re sprawled out on the couch, watching some cliche Netflix series, when Wooyoung thinks to bring up their earlier conversation. “What was the name of that club, last night?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeosang, not really listening, hums noncommittally. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Neo City?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wooyoung slaps the brunette’s arm, successfully earning his attention. “No, stupid, the one with Prince Charming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I think it’s called </span>
  <em>
    <span>Treasure. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s kinda in a shady area, but the security seemed okay. Plus, it’s LGBTQ+ friendly.” Yeosang’s face contorts in concentration. “They advertise that, like, everywhere.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sweet. We’re going back tonight?” Despite his earlier apprehension, Wooyoung can’t hide the hopefulness in his tone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a fond smile, Yeosang ruffles his lavender hair. “Sure, Woo. Now can we please get back to the show? I think Chris is gonna propose soon, and Mina’s gonna shoot him down like the bad bitch she is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wooyoung snorts, already looking forward to tonight. Even if nothing comes from meeting his Princey once more, at least he’s no longer wallowing over Changbin. That’s a win, in his book.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi! So I know this chapter took forever ;^; but I've been job hunting so that's kept me pretty busy. I was initially gonna have this be a two-shot, but I liked having a chap for San, a chap for Woo, and one for their first "official" meeting. (Don't get your hopes up for a quick update, life is hectic rn oof).</p><p>So yeah, got some Woo perspective (and some setup for Woosang's backstory and Yeosang's life &gt;-&gt;). Also SKZ Changbin and TXT made cameos, and no one can convince me that TXT wouldn't all cram into one bed regularly for friend cuddles; they're a cult, I swear.</p><p>Anyways! Please let me know what you think, or if anything could be improved (or leave a kudos if you want ^^) </p><p>Thanks for reading!</p><p>(oh btw I have a twt! follow me @NoruLikey so we can be friends ^-^)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello!</p><p>So this was written at, like, 2am (what's new, honestly) and I'm not super proud of how this part turned out. Tbh I just wanted to write it so like if it sucks, whatever m8, it's not supposed to be that serious. I do hope the second part turns out better, though ^^;</p><p>Anyways, thank you for reading~ &lt;3</p><p>(oh btw I have a twt! follow me @NoruLikey so we can be friends ^-^)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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